INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS 

BEFORE THE 

YOUNG MEN'S ASSOCIATION 

FOR MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT IN THE CITY OF ALBANY, 

DEI/IVJGJSED NOV. SO, 1541, 

BY REV. E. D. ALLEN. 



AN 



INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS 



COURSE OF LECTURES, 



BEFORE THE 



YOUNG MEN'S ASSOCIATION FOR MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT 
IN THE CITY OF ALBANY. 



DELIVERED NOV, 30 1841. 



3 m* 
BY REV. E; D. ALLEN. 



ALBANY: 

PRINTED BY J. MUNSELL, 68 STATE STREET. 
1841. 






Albany, December 2, 1841. 

REV. E. D. ALLEN, 

Sir, 
In behalf of the Young Men's Association, the Executive Committee tender yoa 
their thanks for the Introductory Lecture delivered by you before the Association on the 
30lh ultimo, and solicit a copy for publication. Be assured, sir, that this request is not 
merely made as a formal compliment, and that when we say it springs unanimously from 
the audience that listened to you on that occasion, wc utter it in no spirit of flattery, but 
as a prominent reason that impels us to make the application. By giving publicity to 
the Lecture, we would also gladly extend to others the privilege of sharing in the plea- 
sure and instruction that your kindness imparled to us. 

Respectfully, Yours. 

C. T. SMYTH, GEORGE HUMPHREY, 

A. M'CLURE, J. H. BADGELEY, 

GEORGE C. TREADWELL, JOHN A. WARD WELL, 

S. H. H. PARSONS, ADDISON LOW, 

WILLIAM NESSLE, JOSEPH BURKE, 

CHAS. H. STANTON, LYMAN G. WILSON, 

CHAS. VAN ZANDT, WM. B. EMERSON, 

WM. WENDELL, JOHN TRACY, 

WILLIAM H. MOORE, THOMAS R. COURTNEY, 

W. S. GREGORY, RUEUS H. M'kAY. 
J. C. GRIMWOOD, 



Albany, December 7, 1841. 



Gentlemen 



Your kind note, in relation to my Introductory Lecture before the Association, 
on the 30th ultimo, has been received. If the publication of the hurried production of a 
few hours, in the midst ofpressing professional engagements, can be of any service to the 
cause of troth, or afford any gratification to those for whom it was specially intended, 
I cheerfully commit it to your disposal. 

Yours, truly, 

E. D. ALLEN. 

MESSRS. C. T. SMYTH, 
A. M'CLURE, 
GEORGE C. TREADWELL, AND OTHERS, 

Executive Committee of 

Young Men'' t Association. 



- 
Pea body Institute 
Baltimore 

AUG S 1° 



LECTURE. 



Gentlemen : 

Invited by your partiality, to deliver a lecture 
this evening, introductory to the course which you 
expect to have during the ensuing season, I com- 
plied with your request, not without a deep sense 
of the responsibility it would impose upon me- 
Though fully aware that the interests of your associ- 
ation might have been more effectually advanced by 
the efforts of some one having more experience in 
such matters than myself, yet I found it not in my 
heart to decline an invitation so kindly proffered : 
and I can now only say, " such as I have, give I 
unto you ;" hoping that the same partiality which 
selected me for this work, will be extended to an 
honest, though it should prove an humble effort to 
perform it. 

I have wholly mistaken the nature and objects of 
your organization, and the character of those who 
compose it, if the grand end in view be not intellec- 
tual and moral improvement — the cultivation of the 
mind and heart — that discipline of natural powers 
which prepares for the greatest usefulness, and con- 
sequently the highest enjoyment, in any and every 
sphere in which Providence may have placed you. 

The mind, like the body, requires food for its 



support. Neither, without proper nutriment, can 
be either healthy or vigorous. The aliment adapt- 
ed to strengthen mind is Truth — truth, made the 
subject of careful study, and labored thought. 
But what is truth? This, young gentlemen, is a 
question of vast moment! as difficult as it is impor- 
tant to be answered ; for if there be an equivocal 
word in the English language, as applied either to 
human sciences or religion, it is this word truth! 

It is not my object to enter upon a metaphysical 
discussion of the different ideas attached to this 
term by philosophers and metaphysicians who have 
examined it. Were I fully competent to the task, 
such a discussion, however ably conducted, would 
be at least of very doubtful utility ; while it would 
be far, very far, from contributing to satisfy the 
desire in my own bosom which has prompted this 
effort. The inquiry " what is truth?" was sug- 
gested to the human mind ages since ; and has re- 
turned upon it, as each succeeding generation has 
arisen and departed. Pagan philosophers have pro- 
fessed to search after truth ; and while some of them 
supposed they had found it, others contended that it 
could never be found ; that all was uncertain, and 
that finite minds could be sure of no one thing, ex- 
cept that they were sure of nothing. Such was 
the philosophy of even Socrates ! Nor have mo- 
dern times witnessed a very different result, from 
such abstract, metaphysical discussions. Locke 
defines truth to be — a right "joining or separating 
of signs," i. c. ideas or words. " Truth," he ob- 



serves, " seems to me, in the proper import of the 
word, to signify nothing but the joining or separat- 
ing of signs, as the things signified by them do agree 
or disagree one with another." " The joining or 
separating of signs, here meant, is what we call by 
another name — propositions. So truth belongs on- 
ly to propositions." This last remark, that " truth 
belongs only to propositions," discovers the imper- 
fection of his definition. To utter truth, would be 
indeed to utter, or articulate, such signs as really 
agreed with the ideas they represented. But this, 
in strictness of language, is not truth itself. If by 
truth, we mean the agreement of an object with our 
idea of it, then truth is one of those abstract terms 
which can never be precisely defined, without men- 
tioning the object to which it is attributed, or of 
which it is affirmed. 1 do not affirm that we should 
regard truth as subsisting in a subject, independent- 
ly of the reflections of an intelligence that considers 
it. Yet there may be truth in every object which 
subsists, whether we attend to it or not. Thus, 
there is truth in every art and science. That truth 
may be, nay, is undiscovered by the great mass of 
unthinking mind. Still it exists ! And it exists in 
relation to each particular art or science, as it does 
not in relation to any other. Hence the proper, 
and the only proper and useful inquiry is, what is 
truth in relation to this, and that, and the other 
subject? The answer must be controlled entirely 
by the nature of the object or theme proposed. 
Truth, in mathematics is one thing — in mental and 



6 

moral philosophy, another — in natural science, ano- 
ther. To seek for and acquire truth, therefore, we 
must do something more than agitate the general 
and abstract question, "What is truth ?" We may 
do this forever, and derive no single advantage from 
it, until we apply the inquiry to definite subjects, 
and investigate truth under definite aspects and re- 
lations. All other efforts will be but a waste of 
time and energies. Let us refuse to start out in 
the investigation of truth, until we can determine 
what truth is, in the abstract, and we might as well 
at once commirourselves to the gloom and solitude 
of a dungeon, to pine away and die under the influ- 
ence of disappointed hope, and mad but unsatisfied 
ambition. We should be like the blind man, from 
whose eyes the cataract had been removed, who 
should nevertheless refuse to open his eyes and see, 
because he had not yet determined the nature of 
light, or learned to discriminate colors. Or like the 
mariner, who should refuse to spread his sails to a 
favorable breeze, which might waft him to his des- 
tined haven, because he had not yet settled the phi- 
losophy of winds and storms, or satisfactorily ac- 
counted for all the phenomena on these subjects, 
heretofore unexplained. 

But you have been more wise than this. Your 
society for disputation with each other ; your libra- 
ry ; your reading apartments; this course of lectures 
— all — all tell of a different sentiment, as the one 
which prevails in your bosom. You have resolved 
to keep your eye and your ear, your mind and your 



heart, open to the reception of truth, on any and 
every subject. Noble resolution ! Object worthy 
of pursuit ! We cannot but admire and applaud the 
course you have taken. Nay more, we would not 
stand as idle spectators, simply to approbate and 
admire. We would join you in your efforts, and 
seek by our united energies to attain an object so 
noble, so good. 

Permit me then, young gentlemen, while occu- 
pying the position with which you have honored 
me, to direct your attention to the advantages of 
truth, and the mode of attaining them. 

By the advantages of truth, I mean not only those 
benefits which will flow to us, personally, from the 
actual possession or knowledge of truth; but also, 
all those advantages which will accrue, both to our- 
selves, and through our influence to others, from the 
attainment of that spirit which will most thoroughly 
fit us for the pursuit or investigation of truth. 

The first advantage I name is, that when we 
acquire truth, we acquire something which is per- 
manently our own. Selfishness is a prominent, I 
may safely say, the most prominent feature of hu- 
man character. Man is an acquiring being. Such 
is his constitution, that nature prompts him conti- 
nually to cry " Give ! give !" but never urges him 
to say "it is enough." Even childhood and youth 
manifest this spirit ; and of universal man, it is true, 
in relation to this passion. As has been well ob- 
served of another, " It grows with his growth, and 
strengthens with his strength." It becomes the 



8 

master passion, and makes every thing else minis- 
ter to its gratification. Hence man is continually 
reaching after something which he does not possess. 
Gain is the goal for which he runs — the prize after 
which he aims. Would that the records of by-gone 
ages were not so full of the annals of disappointed 
hope ! But in the light of a rational, not to say 
Christian philosophy, how unwise and inconsistent 
are the pursuits and aims of man. He grasps at 
the unsubstantial, while the real and permanent are 
overlooked. Physical substances, in their nature 
perishable ; animal enjoyments, necessarily restrict- 
ed to the existence of the body, constitute the main 
objects of his desire : while thought, ennobling 
thought, imperishable as the mind itself which ori- 
ginated it, is accounted of little value. It has been 
a favorite theory with some philosophers, that ideas 
once acquired, are always retained. In their view, 
the memory is a tablet or scroll, upon which every 
idea as it enters the mind, is impressed. These 
impressions are indelible ; and though we may not 
at any moment recall them, they are deposited in 
the mind as an imperishable treasure ; and we need 
only to be led back, by the law of association, to 
the spot where they are recorded, to behold them 
in all their original vividness and strength. If this 
theory be true, no single truth acquired by the mind, 
is ever lost. It incorporates itself with the mental 
constitution. Thus, while the body and its produc- 
tions are alike perishable, and continually tending 
to decay ; the mind and its offspring thought, are 



alike immortal ! spiritual essences, over which the 
laws of matter exercise no control. 

" The beings of the mind are not of clay! 
Essentially immortal, they create 
And multiply in us a brighter ray, 
And more beloved existence !" 

Yes ! the elements may combine to wrest from us 
other possessions we have accumulated ; but the trea- 
sures of thought they cannot reach or destroy. 
Enemies may assail us without, but in the might of 
their power, they cannot storm and take the castle 
of truth within. The thief may " break through and 
steal ;" but the storehouse of the mind is surround- 
ed by walls which cannot be scaled, and protected 
by bars which cannot be broken. The honest fruits 
of our industry may be sacrificed to make up defi- 
ciencies caused by the dishonesty and bankruptcy 
of another ; but the results of mental labor are sa- 
credly and inalienably our own. No profane or 
rapacious hand can wrest them from us. The im- 
mortal spirit, in which they are enshrined, must 
itself perish ere they cease to be ours. 

Another advantage I name is, Truth will open to 
the mind a rich and continual source of enjoyment. 
There is such a thing, though few know it by ex- 
perience, as intellectual pleasure — enjoyment de- 
rived from study ; when that study is constantly 
bringing to the mind new, varied, interesting 
thought. I am aware that a taste for such pur- 
suits is acquired only by the long continued habit of 

mental discipline. But that habit once formed and 

2 



10 

the soul need not go out of itself to borrow enjoy- 
ment. Within there is an unwasting fountain, whose 
streams are ever gushing forth to assuage its thirst. 
While uttering this sentiment I may appear to 
some as a barbarian, speaking in an unknown 
tongue. They sit down to read, and one half hour 
closes the exercise with weariness. They pause 
amid business pursuits to meditate, but the work is 
tiresome and they soon abandon it. They listen to 
an essay or lecture ; and their eyelids, as if pressed 
with a leaden weight, are soon closed, and Morphe- 
us sits smiling upon them. Any thing like mental 
exercise soon fatigues them. They can find en- 
joyment any where else sooner than in the high 
walks of intellectual pursuit. To study, think, 
reason, reflect and learn, are miserable employ- 
ments ; and he who pursues them, though his soul 
is sometimes in an ecstacy, while his knowledge 
rises, and his joy extends, is judged a man of me- 
lancholy ; an object well deserving pity. Such is 
the world's opinion. The mass believe and prac- 
tice so. 

But amid this mass of opposing testimony, with 
the general conduct of mankind (all in the pursuit 
of happiness) constantly giving the lie to the asser- 
tion, do you ask for proof that there is such a thing 
as intellectual enjoyment ; and that that enjoyment 
rises higher and higher in proportion, to the disco- 
very and embrace of truth ? Contemplate with 
me the history of the noble few in every age, who 
have dared to think ; and the acme of whose am- 



11 

bition was to know truth. What biography more 
interesting than that which contains the record of 
their lives ? Who more happy than they? They 
seem almost to have lived in another w T orld from 
that in which the multitude around them " lived 
and moved and had their being ;" to have breathed 
in a purer atmosphere ; and to have held intercourse 
with beings of a higher order. Their intellectual 
pursuits were their food, their pastime, their rest, 
their all. New truth discovered, filled them w T ith 
rapturous emotions. Witness an illustration ; mark- 
ed indeed, but not in all respects without a paral- 
lel — in the case of Archimedes the celebrated ma- 
thematician of Syracuse. What was it that influ- 
enced him to leap with joy from the bath in which 
a hint of discovery broke upon him, and to run na- 
ked into the streets crying, " I've found it ! I've 
found it ?" It was truth ; long sought for, and at 
last obtained ! Alas ! he fell a martyr to his love 
of truth. When Marcellus besieged and took the 
city in which he dwelt, this lover of science was in 
his museum, with his mind and eyes so fixed upon 
certain geometrical figures, that he heard not the 
noise and hurry of the Romans ; and perceived not 
that the city was in their power. In this depth of 
contemplation and study, a soldier suddenly ap- 
proached and bade him follow to Marcellus. Re- 
fusing to obey until he had solved his problem, the 
maddened soldier drew his sword and pierced him 
to the heart. Thus death alone was able to tear 
him from his loved employment. Were Kepler, and 



12 

Bacon, and Newton, and Locke, and a host of like 
spirits, misanthropes ; plodding their solitary way 
through earth, saddened and joyless ? Nay, rather, 
while ignorance and darkness enshrouded those 
around them, did not the lamp of science shine on 
their pathway, and the star of hope gleam in their 
horizon ? They had joys, but they were chasten- 
ed ; they were refined ; they were elevated ; while 
the so called pleasures which the vulgar love, were 
as the dirt beneath their feet. Joy, worthy an 
immortal being, was theirs. Joy, springing from 
the discovery and possession of truth. How sub- 
lime the contrast between men panting after such 
happiness, and those thirsting only after sensual 
pleasures! The one fulfill, in some measure, the 
end of their existence ; the other thwart and defeat 
it. God designed that man should think and feel, 
reason and decide ; then act, deliberately ; and 
from consistent, virtuous action, find enjoyment. 
To cultivated and well regulated minds, this is the 
only true source of happiness. In fact, it is so in the 
end, to all minds. Pleasures of a lower order, may 
interest and delight for a season, but " sober second 
thought" dissipates the illusion. A momentary 
sensual gratification ended, and there is an aching 
void within. The wretched solitude of many a vo- 
tary of pleasure attests the truth of this position. 
Take one example only — England's most gifted 
but ill-fated child of song. Like other men, less 
gifted, he sought for pleasure from earth's polluted 
fountains ; and having tried in turn, intellectual and 



13 

sensual enjoyment, he is a competent witness to 
the power of each to satisfy the soul. Listen to 
his own confession : 

" What, from this barren being", do we reap? 

Our senses narrow, and our reason, frail; 

Life, short, and truth a gem which loves the deep; 

And all things weighed in custom's falsest scale — 

Opinion and Omnipotence — whose veil 

Mantles the earth with darkness; until right 

And wrong are accidents; and men grow pale, 

Lest their own judgments should become too bright; 

And their free thoughts be crimes, and earth have too much 

light. 
Yet, let us ponder boldly ! 'tis a base 
Abandonment of reason, to resign 
Our right of thought — our last and only place 
Of refuge; this, at least, shall still be mine, 
Though from our birth the faculty divine 
Is chained and tortured: cabined, cribbed, confined, 
And bred in darkness; lest the truth should shine 
Too brightly on the unprepared mind." 

Though in an evil hour he gave way to the ex- 
ercise of the basest passions, and in them sought 
enjoyment ; yet sense did not always prevail over 
reason ; and when it did not, the clear verdict of 
his judgment was, that mind could be happy, only 
while it lived on food adapted to the mind. 

But there is another aspect of this subject, to 
which I would direct your attention for a moment. 
Truth, we have said, opens to the mind a rich and 
continual source of enjoyment. In the discovery 
and possession of truth, we not only find enjoyment 
of a high order, but that enjoyment is prolonged — 
the fountain whence it issues is exhaustless. Not 
so the pleasures which spring from the embrace of 
error, or from living in the world of fiction. The 



14 

maniac has his pleasure; but it is such as we would 
not envy. His splendid crown, his golden sceptre, 
his extended empire, returning reason sweeps away 
in an hour. The debauched drunkard has his plea- 
sure. At night, his wealth can be estimated only 
by millions ; in the morning, he is poor and wretch- 
ed, loathed alike in his own eyes and in the eyes of 
others. The licentious profligate has his pleasure, 
if worthy the name ; but it can be enjoyed only at 
the sacrifice of all moral principle, when every vir- 
tuous emotion has fled from the soul, and all that is 
amiable and lovely in natural character has depart- 
ed. Then it is short lived, and the miserable body, 
stricken by disease and premature death, once in 
the grave, enjoyment is ended, and the maddened 
soul raves in despair through eternity. The theatre 
may present its evening's attraction. An hour may 
be spent, as in the dreary visions of the night, which 
the morning dissipates. The mock tragedy or play- 
ful comedy may thrill for a moment, and occupy the 
tense passions of the soul ; but the curtain drops, 
the illusion vanishes, reality returns, and the enjoy- 
ment is gone. The adventures of romance capti- 
vate the imagination, and hold the mind as it were 
entranced for a season ; but the plot is discovered, 
the mystery revealed, and the rest is insipid and 
tasteless. So with error in all its forms. 

" It lures but to deceive; it flatters but to destroy." 

Touched by the shaft of truth, it is seen to be pow- 
erless, and shrinks away from the light to its loved 
home, darkness ; to its proper insignificance and 



15 

nothingness. Not so with truth ! The more it is test- 
ed the brighter it shines ; and the brighter it shines, 
the more it reflects light and peace and hope and joy, 
upon the soul of him who loves it. The falling apple, 
as it revealed to the mind of Newton the principle of 
gravitation, was no doubt the occasion of transporting 
joy. But who can tell how much higher and purer that 
joy became, when it was found true, that the same 
principle pertained to all bodies ; and by it the mo- 
tion of the worlds above us, as well as many things 
hitherto deemed mysterious and inexplicable in re- 
lation to our own world, could be explained? Each 
successive new application of the theory thrilled the 
mind of the discoverer with new joy, and became a 
theme on which he could dwell with increasing delight. 
We admit that truth may sometimes be prostrate 
in the streets. Error may be seen to prevail. The 
theory founded in fact may be bitterly opposed by 
those who might have been expected to be its warm- 
est advocates, and its author hotly persecuted by 
those he had hoped to find his most tried friends. 
Truth may be wounded ; and for the want of able 
champions to defend her, left bleeding, and suppos- 
ed to be half dead. But she can never, never die! 
The breath of a succeeding generation will reani- 
mate and revive her. Immortality is her inborn 
right — her God-imparted attribute. The reign of 
her adversaries is short. For 

" Truth, crush'd to earth, will rise again ; 
The eternal years of God are hers! 
But error, wounded, writhes in pain, 
And dies amid her worshipers." 



16 

Who then would not love to pursue and arrive at 
truth ? Who would not improve every facility af- 
forded him to become eminent in this work ? Young 
men, seize! yea, seize eagerly the opportunities of 
improvement, which this Association affords you ! 
Through every medium here presented, seek truth ; 
and if you search for her as for hid treasure, you 
shall find her. 

I name another advantage. Truth will fit you 
to discharge with profit to yourselves, and useful- 
ness to others, the duties growing out of your rela- 
tions in life. We live in a world of realities. The 
conduct of some would seem to indicate that such 
is not the fact. They live, or at least wish to live, 
for the most part, in an ideal world. They may, 
with the followers of Berkeley, theorise and specu- 
late and abstractionize, until, in the retirement of 
the chamber, they persuade themselves that matter 
does not exist, and there is no external world around 
them. They may believe that the very paper on 
which they write, the pen which they handle, nay 
the very hand which holds it, and moves in obedi- 
ence to their mental dictates, exist only in idea. 
But when they mingle in society, they must move and 
act like other men. They must regard the bodies 
and property of those around them as actual existen- 
ces, or they will soon be put in away to discover their 
mistake. Of what avail, then, are their fancied 
schemes, their pleasing errors? They unfit for ac- 
tual life ; while truth alone can prepare for its reali- 
ties. And here I cannot but advert, for a moment, 



17 

to the influence upon character and usefulness, of a 
taste for fictitious reading, and theatrical amuse- 
ments. Of the latter it has been said 

" It is a golden but a fatal circle, 
Upon whose magic skirts a thousand devils, 
In chrystal forms, sit, tempting innocence ! 
And beckon early virtue from its centre." 

The influence of the former, I deem scarcely less 
injurious. They are twin sisters. They aid and 
countenance each other. They feed the same de- 
sire. The votaries of each live in the same moral 
atmosphere ; and that atmosphere is any thing but 
conducive to the strength and proper developement 
of the mental or moral powers. They destroy ca- 
pacity alike for self improvement, and usefulness to 
others. These hotbed plants — summer house flow- 
ers ; creatures of an ideal world, brought out into 
the wintry blasts of life's adversities, and the stormy 
conflict of life's trials, cannot endure them; and 
soon fade, and wither, and droop, and die. They 
produce effeminate characters, which may do for the 
too often sickening, disgusting chat of the so called 
fashionable parlor; but will never hold their place 
in the circle of educated minds ; nay, among the 
unsophisticated, common sense, thinking portion of 
any community. While those who are followers of 
truth ; whose minds and hearts have been measura- 
bly trained under its influence; will occupy any 
post in society, which Providence may assign them, 
with honor and usefulness. In the political world ; 
in mercantile life; in mechanical employments-— 

3 



18 

wherever you find them, you will find them honest, 
generous, dignified, happy. Truth loved, and the 
disposition most fitted to attain it, form such charac- 
ters. 

Might I add another advantage, it would be this : 
The spirit which prompts to the investigation, and 
prepares for the reception of truth — truth on any 
subject — truth in natural, mental, or moral science — 
truth pertaining to earth and heaven — to this life 
and the next — to man's relations to his fellow crea- 
tures around him, and to his Creator above him ; 
would tend to relieve death of its horror, by remov- 
ing present doubts and fears and darkness, in regard 
to^ future existence ; and preparing its possessor for 
hallowed communion and fellowship with the Infi- 
nite mind — the Fountain of eternal Truth. 

But I must hasten to point out the road which 
leads to truth ; or, to suggest some hints in regard 
to the best method of pursuing it, and cultivating 
that disposition which is most favorable to its disco- 
very. 

The advantages of which we have spoken cannot 
be realized without sacrifice and toil. They come 
not unbidden; nor will they come at a nod. Like 
almost every other good, they are attained only by 
effort, and that effort must be put forth in a certain 
direction, and controlled by specific influences. 'Tis 
not all action that terminates in beneficial results ; 
but such, and such only, as corresponds with the 
laws prescribed for the attainment of the object de- 
sired. If these laws be violated, however great the 



19 

wish or the effort to secure any given end, they fail 
of accomplishing it. In the beautiful language of 
Cowper, 

" Man on the dubious waves of error tossed, 
His ship half foundered, and his compass lost, 
Sees, far as human optics may command; 
A sleeping fog, and fancies it dry land ; 
Spreads all his canvas, every sinew plies, 
Pants for it — aims at it — enters it, and dies ! 
Then farewell, all self satisfying schemes — 
His well built systems — philosophic dreams- 
Deceitful views of future bliss — farewell! 
Hard lot of man ! to toil for the reward 
Of virtue, and yet lose it! Wherefore hard? 
He that would win the race, must guide the horse; 
Else, though unequalled, to the goal he flies, 
A meaner than himself shall gain the prize." 

The first suggestion I would make in regard to 
the mode in which we are to excel in the pursuit of 
truth, and which naturally flows out of our previous 
remarks, is, endeavor to have your mind constantly 
impressed with its importance. I mean, the impor- 
tance of gaining truth rather than error, in relation 
to any particular subject. 

There are those who advocate the theory, that it 
is wholly immaterial ichat a man believes, if he is 
only sincere in his belief. This theory prepares the 
mind for the reception of error, as readily as truth. 
The question to be raised is not, do I possess truth 
in relation to this subject ? do the views I entertain 
correspond with the facts in the case ? but simply, 
am I sincere in my belief? In the study of astro- 
nomy, it is not at all important to inquire, whether 
the earth is a sphere, revolving on its own axis, 



20 

and around the sun, thus producing the alternation 
of day and night, and the changes of the seasons — 
but simply, am I honest in believing the earth to be 
flat and motionless, and that the heavenly bodies 
revolve around it, as a common centre ? This is no 
caricature of the tendency of this theory. It is a 
fair and legitimate application of the doctrine. On 
this principle, the followers of Berkeley denied the 
existence of the material world, and persisted in 
that denial. As they found themselves obliged to 
open the doors of their study when they would go 
out ; and to avoid the posts, and the bodies of their 
fellow men, as they passed through the streets, the 
fact would strike their mind, as with an electric force 
— matter has a real existence ! there is an external 
world ! But the question was not, what is fact, or 
truth? but, am 1 sincere in the belief into which I 
have reasoned myself, in my study ? if so, facts, 
though they are stubborn things, cannot in the least 
change my opinion. 

Simple belief, young gentlemen, will never 
change the nature of objects, or their relations. 
There is such a thing as truth ! It will remain un- 
changed and changeless, however human opinion 
may fluctuate concerning it. Be it your object, 
then, in the full and influential belief of this state- 
ment, evermore to inquire, " What is truth ?" Press 
the question in relation to this lecture, and every 
one that shall follow, " What is truth ?" Press it 
in relation to every statement that meets your eye, 
or thrills on your ear, " What is truth ?" " what is 
truth?" 



21 

Nearly allied to this, and of equal importance, is 
another direction. Keep your mind in an inquiring, 
unprejudiced state, ever open to conviction. Of 
the importance of this suggestion, I am most deeply 
sensible ; but how to enforce it in proportion to my 
sense of its importance, I know not. Of particular 
prejudices, unfavorable to the reception of truth, 
time would fail me to speak. I must content my- 
self with some general remarks on this topic. 

The literal meaning of the term prejudice, you 
are aware, is prejudgment — an opinion or decision 
of mind, formed without due examination of the 
facts or arguments which are necessary to a just and 
impartial determination. Thus, we speak of the 
mind of a judge or jury being prejudiced, when, 
before the testimony has been adduced, they say 
they are prepared to give a decision in the case. 
Hence the right to challenge a juror, on the ground 
that having prejudged the case, he is unqualified to 
give an impartial judgment, when the merits of the 
cause are spread out before him. Prejudice is one 
of the most mighty barriers to the progress of truth. 
Its direct and proper influence on the mind is to 
fetter the judgment, to narrow down the compre- 
hensiveness of view ; in a word, to belittle every 
faculty of the immortal soul. A man of prejudice 
lives in a little world by himself; a world so small, 
that but few others can live there with him ; so 
contracted that it will not admit of the carrying out 
of large views, of liberal plans, and noble efforts. 
Not being permitted to soar above or beyond the 



22 

contracted boundaries of his own horizon, he will 
admit nothing to be true, which has not come with- 
in the sphere of his own observation or experience. 
Like the king of Siam, he cannot believe that ice 
can be formed of sufficient thickness to constitute a 
bridge, over which loaded wagons can pass, because 
he has never seen it. Reasoning on philosophical 
or chemical principles, or on any principles, cannot 
be admitted. All effort to convince is of no avail. 
The decree has gone forth, which, like the laws of 
the Medes and Persians, cannot be revoked. It is 
not so — it cannot be so — because 1 have never seen 
or heard it so. I need not remark, that, this spirit 
becoming universally prevalent, a total eclipse would 
come over the arts and sciences ; there would be 
an end to invention and discovery — to the progress 
of knowledge of every kind ; nor need I say, that 
had this spirit prevailed in all past ages, the light 
we enjoy had been as darkness ; these privileges 
now richly conferred upon us, had never been our 
inheritance. Behold a living example of this truth 
in the present condition of the Celestial Empire ! 
What has China, with her three hundred millions of 
minds, achieved in the world of letters, of arts and ci- 
vilization ? What discoveries or inventions find their 
authors among her teeming population ? What rays 
of light, what streams of influence have emanated 
from her, to bless other lands — to irradiate a dark- 
ened world ? Nay, what systems of improvement 
have been devised and put in operation, to elevate 
and happify and save her own population ? Truly, 



23 

the pall of midnight has been thrown over her, and 
the wretchedness and ignorance and semi-barbarity 
of her inhabitants are a cutting rebuke to that pride 
and self-exaltation, and contempt of others, which 
have made her, intellectually and morally, what she 
is. The walls of prejudice have been as massive 
and as difficult to be broken down, as the walls of 
brick and stone which, on one side, have constitut- 
ed at once the boundary and the defence of the em- 
pire. Well may it be said of this haughty people, 
" The pride of thine heart hath deceived thee, thou 
that dwellest in the clefts of the rock ; whose habi- 
tation is high ; that saith in his heart, who shall 
bring me down to the ground ?" 

All the truth which is to be learned by the human 
mind has not yet been learned. The arts and sci- 
ences have not yet reached perfection. All the 
discoveries and inventions of which man is capable, 
have not yet been made. A trackless and bound- 
less ocean of truth still stretches out before you. 
Newton only reached the sands on its margin ; but 
his spirit, still hovering around us, seems to beckon 
you onward. A dwarf upon the shoulders of a gi- 
ant, may well hope to see farther than the giant 
himself. With such men as Newton for your com- 
panions, your counsellors and guides, fear not to 
launch upon its surface. Say not, with those who 
would deter Columbus from his enterprize, " There 
is no land yet undiscovered. A western continent, 
if it exist at all, exists only as a vagary of the ima- 
gination." Nay, rather, admitting what is unques- 



24 

tionably the fact, that the amount of truth now 
known is as a drop of the bucket compared with 
what is yet to be learned, press onward in the pur- 
suit, determined to know more and more continual- 
ly. Break off the shackles which prejudice imposes 
upon weak minds, and determine to range, free as 
thought, over the whole field of knowledge, inquir- 
ing at every step, " What is truth ??.? Be candid, 
be open to conviction. Admit new light, and suffer 
not an odious epithet, attached to any branch of 
truth or its votaries, to prevent a deliberate and fair 
investigation! Remembering that " to err is hu- 
man," cling to no dogma, simply because you have 
once avowed it, when increased light has shown its 
absurdity, and enlargement of view has convinced 
you that it is wrong and illiberal still to maintain it. 
Better relinquish one absurdity which has been ad- 
vanced without reflection, than to add to it a thou- 
sand, which may forever bar the light of truth from 
your soul. Better acknowledge, " for once, I am 
wrong," than fall into an hundred errors to support 
or conceal one. Alas! how many are blockaded in 
their course, and are unable for years to take a sin- 
gle step forward, because they are ashamed first to 
take one step backward, and recant a theory, or re- 
nounce an error, which has given a false coloring to 
all their views, and a wrong direction to all their 
efforts. It is indeed noble ! it is magnanimous to 
acknowledge and correct a mistake. Be that no- 
bleness yours, whenever truth demands it ; frankly 
to confess your error, with the resolution deeply 



25 

iixed in your heart, to consecrate the remnant ol 
your days to the defense of the very truth you once 
opposed, merely because you did not understand it. 

A third suggestion, upon which, did the limits of 
this exercise allow, I should deem it important to 
dwell, is, that in pursuing truth you must restrain 
and guard against the undue influence of the pas- 
sions. They give a false coloring to every object 
which is contemplated under their influence. A 
man w r ill readily believe that is true which he great- 
ly desires to be true, in order to gratify some dar- 
ling passion. Perhaps truth has encountered no 
more powerful and determined foe, in its progress 
through past ages, than it has met in the human 
passions. 

Another suggestion somewhat allied to this, a 
regard to w r hich is very important if you would ar- 
rive at truth is, avoid precipitancy of judgment. In 
relation to all questions involving great principles, 
be cautious how you become hastily committed in 
your opinions. 

We have already spoken of the difficulty which 
most experience in retracing or recanting error. 
Pride, and a natural sense of shame, operates to 
prevent this. In proportion, therefore, to the diffi- 
culty of abandoning, should be the caution against 
adopting erroneous opinions. It has been well ob- 
served, " There are but few, who do not consider 
suspension of judgment as a weakness, although it 
is one of the noblest efforts of genius and capacity." 
To say in relation to a question of moment propos- 



26 

ed for our consideration, I dare not venture an opin- 
ion ; it requires more research than I have been 
able to give it ; years of study are necessary tho- 
roughly to understand it, is deemed by many evi- 
dence of want of acuteness of perception, or matu- 
rity of intellect. Hence, to avoid this charge many 
leap at conclusions without evidence ; and leaping 
in the dark are quite as likely to leap into error as 
into truth. But even truth received without evi- 
dence, may be a continual source of error ; for so 
far as we are concerned, it is founded only on false 
principles ; and if a false principle induces us to 
receive truth to-day, the same principle may lead us 
to adopt error to-morrow. So that deciding without 
intelligence w r e are never safe. The true course to 
be pursued then, is, where reason does not clearly 
guide us, to withold our assent ; for w T e should be 
always free to withold consent from a subject, which 
we have not carefully and thoroughly examined. 

These hints will, I trust, have prepared the way 
for one other, the last I shall offer on the present 
occasion. 

With the mind thus guarded against the ingress 
of error, apply all its energies to the investigation 
of truth, with undivided attention and unwearied 
jierseverance. 

There is very little danger to be apprehended 
from the over action of the mental powers ; while 
there is very much to be dreaded from their wrong 
action. At least in our day we have no fear that 
the land will be taken and overrun by intellectual 



27 

giants. There may be now and then, isolated cas- 
es, where from over exertion, the intellectual pow- 
ers have become soon exhausted, or temporarily 
unbalanced. But such instances are few and far 
between. The great difficulty is to get the mind 
excited ; and when at work to give its energies the 
right direction. In these times of libel suits, I 
would not say aught which by possibility might be 
construed into a slander upon my country ; or those 
who give impress to her intellectual character; but 
I am sure I expose myself to no such charge, when 
I venture the opinion, that we are not, so much as 
we ought to be, an intellectual people, i. e. there 
are not among us so many great minds as there 
ought to be ; minds rendered great by intellectual 
culture ; by vigorous, persevering, mental discipline. 
Nor among the mass of the people is that disposi- 
tion honestly, cautiously, yet continually to inquire 
after truth, prevalent to the extent to which it ought 
to prevail. We are in no danger, therefore, of in- 
flaming an immoderate zeal for knowledge when 
we say — Pursue with still greater avidity, and 
give the undivided and undaunted energies of your 
minds to the investigation of truth. 

What object more worthy of pursuit ? Riches ? 
They may afford the means of temporary gratifica- 
tion of appetite and lust. But these are short lived ; 
and riches themselves take wings and fly away. 
Sensual pleasures ? They cloy, and in the end mur- 
der the soul ! Honors ? Their wreath is fading. 



28 

" What is honor but a name? 
A puff of empty breath; 
A flashing meteor's fitful flame — 
Which soon is lost in death ?" 

No ! Truth — truth alone is substantial food for the 
soul ; and if the human mind may safely and wise- 
ly expend its energies upon any thing, it is truth. 
Permit me then, in a few observations, to urge the 
importance of attentive and persevering efforts of 
mind, if you would gain truth. 

The human mind is so constituted that it cannot 
be intently occupied with two different objects at 
the same moment. It may pass from one to ano- 
ther, with the rapidity of thought ; and the habit of 
directing the mind to different objects, consecutive- 
ly, with all its force, may be cultivated to a very 
great extent ; an extent of which only those who 
have formed the habit can have any just idea. Yet, 
limited in our capacities, as we are ; endowed on- 
ly with a portion of genius ; we may make but very 
slow and uncertain progress, where the thoughts are 
constantly divided between different objects. Our 
own experience confirms this statement ; and thus, 
what we might infer from the nature of mind, is 
proved true by our own consciousness. Who has 
not met with difficulties, when he would direct his 
whole attention to some given subject ? Who has 
not encountered dissipation of mind ? found his 
thoughts wandering and distracted, even after much 
effort to fasten them ? The senses constitute the 
avenues through which we gain a knowledge of ex- 
ternal objects. These are ever open ; and so near 



29 

are we to the objects of sense, that they continually 
obtrude themselves upon us, and are liable to thrust 
out those of intellectual perception, which are with 
more difficulty recalled. To gain a correct ac- 
quaintance with truth, therefore, when it is brought 
before the mind, we must seize it as with giant 
grasp, and hold it there till we can collect and 
concentrate our thoughts upon it. This is atten- 
tion, which, while the mind would wander from ob- 
ject to object, and touch upon the thousands scatter- 
ed over the whole field of mental research, binds 
and fixes it to one. But constituted as we are, oc- 
cupying a position where obstacles to the cultiva- 
tion of this habit are multiplied, w 7 e cannot hope to 
attain it without much labor and continued effort. 
We must not be easily discouraged, but persevere in 
the work. If one trial fails, we must make another, 
and still another. No habit, be it good or bad, was 
ever formed in a moment. It has gained its strength 
by repeated and unwearied exercise. The course, 
which at first was obstructed, has gradually opened; 
impediment after impediment has been removed ; 
and now the full tide of habit flows, with almost re- 
sistless force. Perseverance has accomplished the 
work. What has it not accomplished ? It 

" Is a Roman virtue, 
That wins each godlike act — and plucks success, 
E'en from the spear-proof crest of rugged danger. 
And he who labors firm, and gains his point, 
Be what it will, which crowns him with success, 
He is the son of fortune and of fame.' ' 

Having acquired the habit of attention, persevere 
in applying it to the investigation of truth. Many, 



30 

doubtless, have been just on the point of making 
discoveries, which have been made by those who 
succeeded them. They almost triumphed over the 
obstacles in their way; but wearied and disheart- 
ened, they abandoned the pursuit, when within a 
single step of the realization of their fondest hopes. 
Such need to be reminded of the words of the po- 
et— 

" Revolt is recreant, when pursuit is brave ; 
Never to faint, doth purchase what we crave. 
Attempt the end — and never stand to doubt! 
Nothing's so hard, but search will find it out." 

Yes ! young gentlemen, the mine in which truth 
is to be found may be deep and difficult to be work- 
ed ; but the ore which it yields will more than com- 
pensate the labor expended to obtain it. It cannot 
be valued with the gold of Ophir, with the precious 
onyx, or the sapphire. It is above rubies. The to- 
paz of Ethiopia cannot equal it ; neither can it be 
valued with pure gold. What, then, if it cost effort 
— long continued, laborious effort, to obtain it ? 

" No good, of worth sublime, will heaven permit 

To light on man, as from the passing air. 

The lamp of genius — though by nature lit, 

If not protected, pruned and fed with care, 

Soon dies — or runs to waste, with fitful glare. 

Has immortality of name been given 

To them that idly worship hills and groves, 

And burn sweet incense to the queen of heaven? 

Did Newton learn from fancy, as it roves, 

To measure worlds, and follow where each moves? 

Did Howard gain renown that shall not cease, 

By wanderings wild, that nature's pilgrim loves? 

Or did Paul gain heaven's glory and its peace, 

By musing o'er the bright and tranquil isles of Greece?" 



31 

To attain an object so noble — to accomplish a 
result fraught with so much happiness to one's self, 
and so much good to others— who would not be 
willing to sacrifice his love of ease, to rise up early 
and sit up late, and eat the bread of carefulness ? 
Who would not tax his energies of mind to their ut- 
most, when by so doing he would most effectually 
satisfy the desire for happiness in his own bosom, 
and at the same time send forth a stream of happi- 
fying influence, to gladden other hearts around him? 

I address some to-night, whose very occupation 
seems to forbid the hope that they can accomplish 
wonders, by way of intellectual improvement. 1 
mean the mechanic. Busily employed in manual 
labor; obliged in a great measure to confine his 
thoughts to the piece of mechanism with which his 
hands are engaged ; how can he expect to exel in 
mental culture ? Where are his advantages for pur- 
suing and acquiring truth? I admit that he has 
difficulties to encounter which some others do not 
experience ; but they are not insurmountable. To 
remove them, a higher degree of effort, a more fixed 
attention, a more indomitable spirit of perseverance 
may be required. But it can be done. The ave- 
nues to science and mental improvement are not 
closed to him. No exclusive patent for knowledge 
has been given to the learned few. The price of 
truth is not such that he cannot obtain it. The 
multiplication of books and other issues from the 
press, the springing up of these associations for mu- 
tual improvement, and other influences of a kindred 



32 

nature, which characterize our day, afford facilities 
not hitherto enjoyed, so that all are without excuse ; 
and may I not add, that all are beginning to feel 
that they are so much without excuse, as to put 
forth the appropriate efforts to secure for themselves 
a name and influence among educated minds ? We 
have our " learned blacksmiths," who with their 
daily labor, as their only means of support, have 
mastered, in a few short years, seventeen different 
lauguages ; and as public lecturers in our largest ci- 
ties stand forth, the wonder of an intelligent audi- 
ence, entranced by their eloquence. The indiffer- 
ence and mental indolence of every mechanic is thus 
rebuked. He is fairly shamed out of his excuses, 
and compelled to commence intellectual employ- 
ment. Should there be one here to night, who ex- 
cuses himself from mental effort on the ground of 
his position as to manual labor, the voice of Burritt, 
more shrill than the sound of the hammer upon his 
anvil, breaking over the hills of Massachusetts, 
would echo in his ears the strains of one of New 
England's sweetest bards — 

" Wake thou that sleepest in enchanted bowers! 
Lest these lost years should haunt thee, on the night 
When death is waiting for thy numbered hours, 
To take their swift and everlasting flight. 
Wake, e'er the earth-born charm unnerves thee quite! 
And be thy thoughts to work divine addressed: 
Do something ! do it soon ! with all thy might ! 
An angel's wing would droop, if long at rest ; 
And God himself, inactive, were no longer blest." 

Permit me, ere I close, young gentlemen, to re- 
mind you of what your own reflections must have 



S3 

suggested to you, during the progress of these re- 
marks. If truth in science is important — truth in 
religion is equally important. If it is proper to in- 
quire " What is truth ?" in relation to the present 
life, and the objects which move around us, and 
around which we move, in our present state of be- 
ing; it is no less proper to institute the same in- 
quiry in regard to the life to come ; the relations we 
sustain beyond the grave, to other beings and to 
other worlds. This is the dictate of a rational phi- 
losophy. Plato and Aristotle agitated the question 
" If a man die shall he live again ?" Yet they were 
heathen, not Christian philosophers. Others have 
followed in their train, who have panted after future 
existence, and believed in its reality. " I have al- 
ways believed" says the author of letters attributed 
to Ganganelli, " that the honor of possessing an im- 
mortal soul was the greatest possible glory." It is 
a question well worth the highest consideration of 
all — Do I possess an immortal nature ? A truly no- 
ble mind, solicitous to obtain truth on all subjects, 
would delight to inquire in regard to the reality and 
nature of future existence ; the relations sustained 
to other and higher intelligences ; and the best 
mode of preparing for their companionship. Truth 
on this subject would be hailed by such a mind, 
with gladness. Light coming from any source, 
would be welcomed with joy and gratitude. Need 
I say that such light beams from the pages of that 
volume called appropriately " the Book" because of 
the important truths it reveals ? Every real disci- 

5 



34 

pie of truth will love to drink from this fountain, 
where God and angels drink. The cultivation of 
the intellect is a noble work ; but the cultivation of 
the intellect and the heart too, is a work far more 
noble. It is drawing out the different elements 
of being in their due proportion. It is fitting alike 
for more extended usefulness and increased happi- 
ness. And who would not be useful as well as hap- 
py? Who would not by deeds of benevolence, 
aiming to enlighten, to elevate, to adorn and save 
his race ; leave behind him a monument in the af- 
fections of coming generations, more enduring than 
marble or brass ? 

<c 'Tis infamy to die and not be missed ! 

Or let all soon forget that thou didst e'er exist! 

Rouse to some work of high and holy love, 

And thou an angel's happiness shalt know — 

Shalt bless the earth, while in the world above, 

The good begun by thee shall onward flow, 

In many a branching stream — and wider grow. 

The seed that in these few and fleeting hours 

Thy hands unsparing and unwearied sow, 

Shall deck thy grave with amaranthine flowers 

And yield thee fruits divine, in heaven's immortal bowers!" 



